oBLIVion
by chiaroscuroz
Summary: n: the state of being unaware or unconscious of what is happening. A Series of Drabbles.
1. Olivia

_Oh I live for you, I long for you Olivia; Don't let me go_

* * *

He was the first to fall, which would of surprised anyone, but surprised him most of all.

They had been sleeping together for a couple of months now. The arrangement was simple, they needed each other. She needed someone who understood what it was like to be a zombie. Who wouldn't bat an eye when she showed up on his doorstep obsessed with some weird new kink (he was a kinky son of a bitch himself ex-zombie or not). And him? It was simple, he needed to know that he could make the mighty Olivia Moore scream. His ego depended on it.

It was a simple case of frenemies-with-benefits, with absolutely no pretense of romance. In fact she had even been, _quite rudely he'd add_ , kicking him out of her bed until a few weeks ago when he fell asleep before finding his pants and had woken up to her looking absolutely murderous.

After that he managed to _conveniently_ fall asleep every single time. Eventually she even started making breakfast for him too instead of just tossing him out the door on his ass.

Good times.

Until today, when he stopped by the morgue with hopes of a quickie during lunch; only to be greeted with red eyes and a scalpel to his neck, Liv ranting about how she was going to be putting him on one of slabs for some, quote, "stupid evil shit" he'd done. Now what exactly he _had_ done he wasn't sure. He had done quite a few things over the past few days alone that could qualify, but she wasn't exactly in the mood to elaborate between her rants of how she should of just shot him when she had the chance, and how much she hated him.

She was beautiful when she was angry. A hurricane of a thing trapped inside that slight little body.

 _ **God do I love this woman.**_

The thought shocked him, knocking the smug grin off his face. Liv must have noticed the sudden change in his demeanor as she stopped mid rant, her green eyes searching his own. An uneasiness settled over them and for a moment he was struck by the unmistakable urge to kiss her, to wrap her up in his arms and fill her ears with promises of how he would do better, be better for her. _All for her._

But instead he listened to the fear that gripped him instead, and muttered a quick _excuse me_ before shuffling out the door.

 _Love?_

He was willing to write it off as just a slip of the tongue, mental phrasing gone wrong. But somehow he knew that it was more than that, it was worse than that. Even just thinking that four letter word was dangerous. It was a slippery slope that led to horrendous things like cuddling and weekend get always. It meant marriage and a little house with a white picket fence. It meant kids that would grow up to be just like him, and a him who would grow up to be just like his father. He had no time for love. No room for it in his cold, hard heart.

He stayed away for a month. For as long as he could. No texts, no calls, no late night booty calls. Until one late rainy night when the weather matched his mood and he showed up on her doorstep at 2 am completely drenched through.

She almost ripped his hair out in the process, but hey, it was the best sex of his life.


	2. Reasons Why

It takes her much longer than him to fall. She had something standing in his way that he didn't: Morals. Those pesky little morals that told her that she was almost as bad as him for letting him do the _things_ that he did to her (And for her enjoying them).

She started keeping a list of reasons why she should, and shouldn't just kill him and save the world the trouble. Adding to the 'Reasons To' kept her anger alive, which made her feel human. Sane. As long as she could hate the monster she had no chance of loving him. She clung to that.

The first reason for was the most obvious: He was a murderer.

 _Reason to Kill Blaine #2. He turned me into a Zombie._

The reasons not to had been slow to start, and were few and far between. But adding to them managed to lessen the guilt that she felt, and the more she could justify her feelings for him the less she despised herself.

 _Reason not to Kill Blaine #1. He makes me feel alive._

She hadn't felt that way in a long time. Being with him was like being on a rollercoaster. There were extreme highs and extreme lows. There were days when she thought she couldn't hate him more, and days when she was surprised by how on top of the world she felt every time he made her laugh, or smile.

 _Reason to #8. I want to wipe that smug grin off of his face._

One night he showed up on her doorstep covered in blood and bruises. There was a bullet lodged in his bicep.

 _Reason not to #6. He's trying to do better._

There was so much blood that at first it had frightened her. She didn't know how much of it was his and how much was someone else's. She'd brought him inside and patched him up without a word. Later she wondered when she had started worrying about him, and when she had stopped assuming the worst.

 _Reason not to #10. When he smiles, it's like the whole world is standing still._

Eventually she finds out why Stacey Boss was hunting him, and how it _wasn't_ just because he was testifying against him like he had said. It was because he was trying to steal the Utopium trade out from under Boss' feet.

 _Reason to #15. He is a liar and a sleezebag through and through._

After she finds out, he disappears. One minute he's there, with his cocky grin and devil may care attitude, laughing at her anger. And the next there's a fear in his eyes that makes her falter.

Then he's just gone.

 _Reason to #20. He's a coward._

At first she's not alarmed. But a week goes by and he's nowhere to be found. For the first time in a long time she can't sleep at night. Her anger turns to fear and she wonders if the reason she spent so long afraid of loving him was because she was afraid of losing him.

She stops writing lists. Her reasons for and against are all one and the same anyways, and killing him or not no longer matters when everyday she walks into the morgue afraid that she'll see his face.

A month goes by and she gives up hope.

That is until the doorbell rings one rainy night and he's standing there, drenched to the bone. She's torn between relief and anger so she settles for both, digging her nails into his scalp as she pulls him in for a kiss.

The next morning she adds one last thing to both of her lists, before tearing them up for good.

 _I love him._


	3. La Belle et la Bete

In another world he would of been a better man, a _different_ man.

In another world he would have realized his feelings for her before he fucked it up so badly, back before he took everything too far and became the monster that haunted her dreams.

Back before the blood of his first kill stained his hands. Back before he screwed (sometimes quite literally) Seattle's elite into paying him 25k a month just to survive. Before he killed Lowell, before he tried to kill Major.

Maybe out there, there's a world in which love at first (or second) sight existed. A world in which after walking into the morgue that first day, he emerged a changed man. Fueled only by the possibilities that resided behind those big blue eyes.

Maybe there was even a world where they met before his whole world turned south, before he became a dealing addict, desperate for power and recognition. A world where a sweet, but no-nonsense med student bandaged the wounds around his heart, and showed him what it was like to live in the light.

He didn't know why he was haunted by it, by these infinite possibilities that existed in infinite worlds outside their own. He relished being bad, he lived for it. He never wanted to change. Why would he? He had power and money, and people who shuddered at his name. He had everything he had ever wanted, and he had built his walls up so high that he thought no one could ever touch him again.

Until she had shown up, crashing through his life like a hurricane, leaving cracks in his foundation in her wake.

He didn't know if he could change, and even if he could would it make any difference?

He needed to know if, in every possible universe, she looked at him the same. With that same cold distain and indifference in her eyes. Did her lips always purse into that same grimace? Did she always flinch away at his touch?

Or was there a world where he lit a fire in her, not out of hatred but out of love? A world in which her smile dazzled his life, and she laughed at his terrible jokes. Where her fingers entwined with his own, and her lips were always soft against his.

Because even if out of all the possible realities, there was at least one in which Beauty came to love the Beast, then maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.


	4. Life Sucks, Then You (Don't) Die

_A lil' something I thought was missing from last week's episode._

* * *

She had assumed that he was fine. She had read his lack of reaction to the cure failing to mean that he was happy even, that the idea of being a zombie again filled his cold little heart with glee. He had acted like it at least, but then again he treated everything like a joke, even the death and destruction in his wake.

What she had never expected, was to find him drunk at her door, a few nights after breaking the news.

"What the hell Blaine?" He grinned at her, cocky as ever and pushed his way into her apartment on unsteady feet.

"I like what you've done to the place sister! Nice and homey" he said, twirling around the room before collapsing on her sofa. "Hey, do you have anything to drink?"

She sighed, slowly closing the door before turning to face him with a frown. She didn't have the patience for this, for him. "I think you've had more than enough already."

"I'm playing a game, see, trying to drink as much as possible before the taste buds go kaputski"

"You might drop dead first." Liv said dryly. She had meant it as a joke, but almost instantly something in his demeanor changed. His eyes lost focus and his shoulders slumped the slightest bit, like the last bit of life in him had been sucked out.

"A guy can dream"

Liv sighed and rolled her eyes, before grabbing a bottle of wine from the kitchen, and pouring a glass out for Blaine. Gilda always kept the pantry stocked, and Liv doubted she'd miss one bottle.

"Now, is there a reason you're in my apartment, or did you just come to raid my pantry?" She asked, handing over the glass and sitting herself down a comfortable distance away on the couch.

"How do you do It?" he asked after a moment of silence, his eyes fixed down on his glass as he swirled the red liquid round and round. "How do you live every day like you're so alive?" He glanced back up at her, but then quickly averted his eyes, taking her silence as cue to carry on. "You know I used to be a pretty big proponent of YOLO. You only live once so why not make the most of it? Stay high, fuck hard. Get what you want and screw the consequences. I used to think that was living" he snorted "and then I died and the rules changed. Everything became muted somehow, bland. I was bored. Which turned out to be pretty fucking catastrophic for just about everyone." He looked up sharply, narrowing his eyes, "Not that I regret any of it, mind you. But then I was human again, and I thought, now I'll make the most of it. Now I'll really live. Only now here I am, in the eleventh hour and I'm just as dead as I ever was."

Liv frowned, "I'm not sure what you're asking me."

"Forget it" he grumbled.

They were both silent for a moment, as he tended to his drink with greedy gulps, and her brain processed his words until something about them clicked. She took a breath to speak but hesitated, looking him over carefully. This was Blaine sitting here beside her, and while her nature urged her to say something to comfort him, she wasn't sure that she wanted to unburden her soul to him just yet. But the fact of the matter was, he had made her realize something that she hadn't before.

"Before I- before you turned me," she said, shuffling In her seat, "I was probably the furthest thing from YOLO that you can imagine. I took only one life to mean that I had to live a perfect one. Everything planned out to a T. No fun allowed. But... Then I turned, and in one instant everything that I had worked so hard for was ruined."

"Liv I-"

"No." She reached up a hand to hush him. "I thought my life was ruined, that it was over. I thought I had lost everything, and I was miserable because of it. But then I started working with Clive and I realized something. All of a sudden my life was filled with possibilities, some of which I never would of contemplated In a thousand years. And sometimes it can really suck, but sometimes it's intoxicating. And if I had never become a Zombie then I would of been stuck living the perfect, boring life that I had always wanted, instead of just experiencing life."

She had been avoiding his eye as she spoke, but once she finished she glanced over to him, surprised at the intensity of his stare. Somewhere during her speech he had moved closer, and now that she was aware of it, all she could feel was the pressure of his knee against her own, and the heat of his eyes on her face.

"So… me turning you was a gift?"

"That's not what I said."

He grinned, glancing down at her lips "Do I get a thank you?"

"You're drunk Blaine"

"And…?" he asked, leaning in to close the gap, and she panicked, standing up abruptly; sending him face first into the couch.

"And I'll go grab you a blanket, I'm not letting you out of here in this state."

She has assumed that he was fine. She had assumed that he was untouchable, immune to the disease of human emotion. And maybe it was the doctor inside of her, or worse still the romantic; who for a split second almost let him kiss her. Believing that maybe, just maybe, she could be the cure to all his sorrows. That she could fix the dead soul in front of her.

But by the next morning he was gone, the empty bottle the only evidence of his visit. Its weeks before she sees him again, and he's as cocky and annoying as ever, as if nothing had changed. But his eyes linger longer than usual, and his smile is softer somehow, and she thinks… maybe.., maybe something has.


End file.
